


Some Things Are Meant to Be

by Leslie_Knope



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Weddings, to an unrepentant degree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 07:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12206430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leslie_Knope/pseuds/Leslie_Knope
Summary: Will sighed. “I guess I could text her and pretend to be sick or something.”“No, you can’t do that!” Chris plucked the invitation from his hand. “Just pretend to be dating someone and bring them.”Will lifted his eyebrows at him. “Uh, that’s not an actual thing that people do.”“You don’t know that!” Chris protested, and Will snorted.“Oh, yeah? And where exactly am I supposed to find a fake boyfriend?”Chris grinned. “So I have this friend from college.”





	Some Things Are Meant to Be

**Author's Note:**

> The title, of course, is from Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley.

“You want another one?” Will yelled, and Chris made some sort of loud, affirmative noise from the living room.

Will took a second beer from the fridge, balancing both in one hand while he grabbed a container of guac with the other. He slammed the fridge door shut with his hip but misjudged the necessary force, and several papers affixed to the front floated to the ground.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He set everything on the counter and crouched down, picking up the notice about his rent going up, his reminder card for his dentist appointment yesterday, and—shit.

Will plopped down on his ass, staring down in horror at the piece of heavy cardstock in his hand. Goddamn, he can’t believe that he forgot.

“Hey, what happened to that—shit. What’s wrong? What’s that?”

Will looked up at Chris, who circled the breakfast bar and sat down in front of him. He vaguely waved the paper. “An invitation. To my ex’s wedding. It’s…it was hidden on my fridge. I forgot about it.”

“Do you still love her or something? Is this an existential crisis type of situation?”

Will rolled his eyes. “No, definitely not. But I said I was bringing someone, back when I got the invitation, and I _totally_ forgot. It’s on Saturday.”

“And you don’t wanna go alone?”

Will made a face. “Not after I RSVP’d with a plus-one. She’s still an ex, you know? Not that you would know anything about that,” he added dryly, and Chris grinned.

“You’re just jealous of me and Cait.”

“True,” Will murmured. He stared down at the invitation and sighed. “I guess I could text her and pretend to be sick or something.”

“No, you can’t do that!” Chris plucked the invitation from his hand. “Just pretend to be dating someone and bring them.”

Will lifted his eyebrows at him. “Uh, that’s not an actual thing that people do.”

“You don’t know that!” Chris protested, and Will snorted.

“Oh, yeah? And where exactly am I supposed to find a fake boyfriend?”

Chris grinned. “So I have this friend from college.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Yeah, _and_ I bet he’ll do it. He’d totally be down for something like this. Here, I’ll text him right now,” he said, raising his voice over the sound of Will’s seemingly-fruitless protests. He dug his phone out of his back pocket and spoke slowly as he typed. “ _Hey dude, you wanna pretend to be the boyfriend of my friend from work for a wedding? Saturday night._ ”

Will groaned, bracing his elbows on his knees as he buried his head in his hands. “Chris, you can’t just—”

“He said yes,” Chris reported, staring down at his phone, and Will’s jaw dropped.

“Are you serious?”

He scooted around to sit next to Chris, who helpfully tilted his phone so Will could see the message. _Sure. He cute?_

 _Very_ , Chris wrote back, and Will grimaced. “Don’t—don’t oversell it, jeez.”

“You’re super hot, Will, deal with it.”

“Is _he_ cute?”

“Very,” Chris repeated, and Will snorted. “I’m giving him your number. His name’s Derek, by the way.”

Will sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I have a feeling that I’m going to regret this.”

“Worst case scenario, you’ll have a great story to tell.” Chris got to his feet and held a hand out to Will to haul him up. “Grab those beers, third period’s about to start.”

* * *

**Derek:** Hey, sugarplum.  
  
**Will:** I don't think I could keep a straight face if someone called me sugarplum in public.  
  
**Derek:** Ok, strike that one from the list. Lovebug?  
  
**Will:** Just my name is fine. Which is Will.  
  
**Will:** And this whole thing was Chris's idea, btw.  
  
**Derek:** Oh, I have no doubt.  
  
**Will:** I just wanted to feign illness.  
  
**Derek:** But this will be way more fun!  
  
**Will:** Yeah? You pretend to be people's boyfriend often?  
  
**Derek:** Nah, you're popping my cherry.  
  
**Derek:** Honeybear.  
  
**Will:** Ok, what did I say about that.  
  
**Derek:** This is gonna be fun. So where's this wedding? Saturday, right?  
  
**Will:** Yeah. Brooklyn Botanic Garden  
  
**Derek:** Ooh nice. Dress code?  
  
**Will:** Suit, no tux. Should we meet up beforehand?  
  
**Derek:** You know that random bar/bakery @ Union/Franklin? Wanna meet there?  
  
**Will:** Great. 6:30?  
  
**Derek:** Awesome. See you then, studmuffin.

* * *

Will’s tie was choking him.

He yanked at it, craning his neck as he walked from the subway toward the intersection that Derek had given him. He slowed as he got closer, scanning people on the sidewalk. He forgot to ask Chris for a picture or something, so he had no idea who he was looking for. He’d texted him in a panic about 10 minutes ago, but all Chris said was _tall, dark hair_ , as if that didn’t describe half the people walking down a New York street. Hopefully it would be obv—

Oh, dear. There was a guy standing next to the entrance of the place Derek had mentioned, with a coffee in one hand and a phone in the other, leaning back with one foot propped up on the wall behind him. He was in a closely-tailored dark gray suit with a light blue shirt and a thin navy tie.

And he was…Jesus, he was attractive. He was as tall and broad as Will, which was surprising. Warm green eyes, dark skin, and a layer of heavy stubble that looked _artfully_ sculpted.

Why was Will’s mouth suddenly so _dry_? He swallowed and tugged at his tie again before stepping closer and waving, awkwardly. “Uh, hi.”

Derek’s head snapped up, his eyes wide, and he smoothly held his coffee away from his body as he nearly tripped and then rebalanced himself, as if it was something he did often.

“Whoa, hey. Will? I’m assuming?”

“Do a lot of guys in suits approach you on the street?” Will replayed the words in his head and grimaced. “Don’t answer that.”

Derek laughed—he had a _nice_ laugh, fuck—and tucked his phone inside his jacket before holding his hand out. “Derek. You’re the first guy in a suit to approach me tonight, at least.”

“Well, I’ll take that dubious honor, thanks.”

Derek held up his coffee cup and tilted his head toward the bakery behind them. “You want a drink or anything or you ready to go?”

“No, I’m all set. You, uh, you look nice, by the way.”

“Thanks. You don’t look half-bad yourself.”

Will resisted the urge to pull at his tie. “Thank you.” Derek started walking, and Will fell in step beside him. “And thanks for doing this, by the way. I know it’s weird.”

Derek shrugged. “Free dinner, open bar, evening with a hot guy. Not too shabby.”

“Oh, god.” Will winced, and Derek looked delighted.

“A hot guy who _blushes_. Wow, this just keeps getting better.”

Will covered his face. “Please stop talking,” he said, his voice muffled from behind his hands.

Derek laughed and tugged one of his hands down by the wrist. “Oh, come on. We’ll have fun.”

“Hey, I could be a jerk. For all you know.”

Derek quirked an eyebrow, his tone tinged with disbelief. “You’re friends with _Chow_. He thinks you’re cool, and he’s—”

“Basically the nicest person in the universe, yeah,” Will finished. “I’m not as nice as him, though.”

Derek’s grin was sharp. “Me neither.”

Will laughed. “You have to be somewhat nice, at least, though, in order to go to a wedding with a stranger.”

“Yeah, well,” he said with a shrug. “Chow said it was your ex’s wedding? You still in love with her or something?”

Will sighed. _God_ , why did everyone think that?

“No, definitely not. We just dated for a year in college. Mutual breakup, no drama. But we had a lot of friends in common, which I guess is why I was invited. I just…didn’t wanna come alone, you know?”

Derek grimaced. “Yeah. No matter how amicable the breakup, no one wants to show up single to an ex’s wedding.”

“Exactly!” Will exclaimed. “I RSVP’d with a plus-one months ago, with the fruitless hope that in the future I would be, you know, not single anymore, and then I totally forgot about it.” Well, he probably could have said that in a way that didn’t make him sound so pathetic. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “So do you have a really understanding significant other, or…”

Derek snorted. “No, I’m single.”

Will wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he changed the subject. “What, um, what do you do for work? Chris didn’t tell me much.”

“I work at a publishing house, as an editor. I also write—poetry, mostly, and some short stories.”

Will blinked, surprised. That wasn’t what he was expecting. “Oh. Wow.”

“Okay, try to sound _less_ impressed,” Derek said. He was smiling a little, but Will couldn’t tell if it was forced or not. He shook his head.

“No, I wasn’t—that was genuine. That’s amazing. I hate even writing, like, _emails_ , I admire the shit out of people who can actually do it.”

“What, write good emails?” Derek said dryly. He was smiling, though—for real this time, definitely—as his elbow nudged Will’s arm.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“No, please, flatter me some more,” Derek said, and Will laughed.

“Can I read some of your poetry then? I won’t get it, but I promise that I’ll tell you it’s good.”

“That is at least a second date type of scenario.” Derek stepped into Will’s space to toss his coffee cup in a trash can on his other side, and Will temporarily forgot to breathe. Man, he smelled good. “And you work with Chow. So computer stuff?”

“Yeah.” Will nodded. “That’s what it says on my business card. Will Poindexter, Computer Stuff.”

Derek snorted and bumped their shoulders together—though that could have been an accident. “But actually.”

“But actually,” he repeated. “I work for the city, in city planning. I’m a developer.”

“That’s cool. How’d you get into that?”

Will shrugged. “Computer science major in college. I was always good at coding and shit and figured that I should work somewhere where I could help the people who are actually doing the important work.”

“Hey,” Derek said, looking a little surprised, “your work is important.”

He shrugged again. “Not really, not on its own. But it makes the jobs easier for everyone who _is_ doing the good work, helping people.”

Derek nodded, contemplative. “You like it, though?”

“Yeah, definitely. The work is interesting, at least.”

The entrance to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden loomed in front of them, and Will took a quick glance at the map.

“So how did we meet?” Derek asked. “That’s like the first question people ask.”

“Uh…something simple.”

“Man, you are no fun. I had workshopped this whole thing where we met because your giant corporation was trying to overtake my independent bookstore.”

Will opened his mouth, then closed it. “That’s the plot from _You’ve Got Mail_. And why do you get to be Meg Ryan?”

“So you admit that you’ve seen it!” Derek said triumphantly, and Will rolled his eyes.

“We met at a bar,” he said firmly.

“Which bar?”

“I—I don’t know!”

Derek hummed. “We got _so_ drunk that night that neither of us can remember which bar we were at. So now we’re on a quest to visit every bar in the city, hoping that one sparks our memory. So far we’ve only made it through two of the five boroughs.”

Will laughed. “Well, you’re clearly the creative one. That is ridiculous.”

“Okay, fine.” Derek scratched at his jaw. “Let’s see...you were at a bar in Soho, one that’s closed down now. And then as soon as I walked in the door, you were so, like, _overcome_ that you bought me a drink before I even sat down.”

“I would not be that smooth,” Will admitted. “It would take me a _minimum_ of 30 minutes to come over to you, if I ever managed to progress from merely pining in the corner, and then I’d just have to pray that you could be lured in by sarcasm and awkward charm.”

“It would work,” Derek said confidently.

Will startled at that and was thankfully saved from answering because they were there. The scenery was gorgeous—the ceremony was outside on the grass, with a line of lush, flowering shrubs as the backdrop—but he was weirdly nervous. Would this whole charade even work? He reached for his tie again, but Derek swatted his hand away. “Oh my god,” he said under his breath, stepping closer. “Stop messing with your fucking tie.”

Will sucked in a breath and tilted his chin up as Derek straightened it and smoothed out the knot. If this was part of the act, he was really selling it. “Uh, thanks.”

“No problem.” He smoothed it down one more time and left his hand on Will’s chest. “You ready?”

 _No_ , he wanted to scream. _It’s been 20 minutes and I already have an embarrassing crush on you, this cannot possibly end well._

“Yeah, sure.” In a random bout of courage, he picked up Derek’s hand and tugged him over to a row near the back of the bride’s side.

“Are you one of those people who hate weddings?” Derek whispered, and Will shook his head. He leaned a little closer, under the guise of keeping his voice low.

“I don’t really have strong feelings either way. I haven’t been to that many weddings. You?”

“I love weddings. Unabashedly so.” _Unabashedly_ , Will mouthed, but Derek thankfully didn’t notice. “I mean, it’s all about, like, flowers and love. What’s to hate?”

Will hummed. “If I were one of those people who hated weddings, then I’d probably point out something about the wedding-industrial complex or all the complicated, misogynistic history. But I’m not, so I won’t.”

Derek laughed, loud enough that an older couple sitting in front of them turned around and raised their eyebrows at them. Derek promptly covered his mouth with his hand, and Will tried to twist his face into something apologetic. Making Derek laugh was kind of addictive, it turned out, and he leaned close again. “I can see why you agreed to do this,” he continued. “You have to feed your wedding fetish somehow.”

“You caught me.” Derek sprawled out in his chair a little, his foot nudging against Will’s. “I actually crash weddings every weekend. It feels weird to be here as an actual guest.”

Will thumbed over his shoulder. “We can leave and go find another one if it’s, like, the illicit thrill that does it for you.”

“Shut up, stop making me laugh. I think it’s starting.”

Will twisted in his seat to look over his shoulder—sure enough, people were starting to line up at the back of the aisle. The motion pressed his knee to Derek’s, and he didn’t move it when he turned back around.

The ceremony was tasteful and fairly short. During the vows, he snuck a glance at Derek, who looked enraptured.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered, without tearing his gaze away from the altar.

“I wasn’t,” Will whispered back, though he obediently turned his eyes forward again.

After everyone had kissed and/or clapped and/or walked down the aisle, the entire mass of guests moved to the reception site, a gorgeous glass-walled building with high ceilings. Will lost Derek in the crowd, somehow, but finally spotted him picking his way toward him, carefully holding two very pink drinks.

“What is this?” Will asked as he took one from him.

“It’s one of the _signature cocktails_. I took from the bride’s side, obviously.”

Will lifted his eyebrows but took a sip. “It’s good. Grapefruit-y.”

Derek leaned into him, and Will leaned back. “So many people here do you actually know?”

“I see a few, and I’m assuming that we’ll be at the same table. No one I’m that close with anymore, though.”

“So no one will be surprised that you have this sudden boyfriend?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

They wandered around, checking out the décor—it seemed to be flower-themed, appropriately—and ran into Will’s college roommate. He introduced him to Derek, and Mike shook his hand eagerly.

“Hey, nice to meet you. How long have you guys been together?”

“About six months,” Will said. They hadn’t discussed that part, but it seemed safe.

“And how’d you guys meet?”

Derek laughed, perfectly smooth and casual, and slid his arm around Will’s waist. “Will works with a guy I went to college with. He would talk about him all the time, and I pestered him _constantly_ to set us up. He finally relented, Will said yes, and well, here we are.”

“Aw,” Mike said.

He clapped Will on the shoulder and wandered away after a little more small talk, but Will was a still distracted. “That’s, uh, not true, right? That…what you said.”

Derek made a face and held his index finger and thumb just an inch apart as he backed away, in the direction of the bar. “It’s a little bit true.”

“Wait, which part?” he called out, hurrying after him, but Derek ignored him.

“Will!”

He whirled around and saw Beth coming toward them, the crowd parting for her reverently.

Will smiled and hugged her carefully, terrified of messing up her dress or her hair. “Congratulations,” he told her, and she grinned up at him. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you. Your _boyfriend_ is lovely,” she said slyly as she turned toward Derek, and Will suppressed a laugh.

“Beth, this is Derek. Derek, Beth.”

“Congratulations,” he echoed, as he shook her hand. “Everything is beautiful, thank you so much for inviting us.”

“Oh, of course. I had to meet the person who’s putting up with this guy.”

“Ah, yes. Well, you know, the great sex helps,” he said casually, and Will choked on air. Beth laughed and patted Will’s arm as he coughed.

“So glad you’ve found someone who appreciates you,” she said with a little wink, and she waved at them both before floating away.

“You’re having too much fun with this,” Will accused, once Beth was out of earshot, and Derek grinned.

“Did you see her face? She totally agreed with me. Now I know you’re good in bed.”

“I need another drink,” Will announced, loudly.

“Perfect, I’ll buy you one.”

Derek tugged him by the elbow toward the bar, and Will rolled his eyes. “This is an open bar.”

“Yeah, and? Still counts.”

Will tilted his head. “Does it, though?” he asked, and Derek laughed.

“What do you want?”

“Beer. Whatever they have that’s not, like, Bud Light.”

Derek fought through the crowd surrounding the bartender and met Will back at the end of the bar, brandishing two beers. He handed one over and clinked the necks together. “So is she your type?”

“Huh?” Will asked, and Derek jerked his chin toward Beth, who was talking with an older couple about 20 feet away from them.

“You know. Small, blonde.”

“Oh. No,” Will said with a shrug. “I don’t really have a type, I don’t think.”

“Oh, come on. _Everyone_ has a type.”

“Fine, a _physical_ type.”

“Then what’s your emotional type?”

Will sighed. “I don’t know, clichéd stuff! Someone who makes me laugh. I want—just someone who I can be myself around, someone who I can talk about random shit with but still have fun. I don’t know.”

He cleared his throat and took a long drink of his beer, a little embarrassed by his accidental display.

“That’s nice.”

Will wasn’t sure if he was being made fun of or not, so he didn’t look up. “Fine, then what’s _your_ type?”

Derek hummed and leaned back, his elbows resting on the bar. “Tall.” His gaze was lazy as it drifted down Will’s body, and Will prayed that his flush wasn’t visible in the low light. “Smart. Someone with opinions about stuff.”

“Interesting.”

“Oh, yeah, can’t forget interesting.”

Will snorted.

By the time they finished their drinks, dinner was starting to be served. The food was really good, actually, better than he had expected, and thankfully Derek liked fish, which Will had pre-selected for both of them.

They were in fact seated at a table with some of Will’s old friends, but once he’d finished his food and had enough talking about random college stories, he dropped his napkin next to his plate and leaned close to Derek. “You wanna go take a walk? I think the gardens are still open.”

“A _walk_? How romantic.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, but Derek immediately stood up and took his hand. Will followed him toward the door and tried not to notice how warm and broad his hand was. He had no idea how much of this was still an act for Derek. If it _was_ , was the handholding really necessary? Fuck.

The gardens were beautiful, even more so, perhaps, when they were dark and empty, and they talked as they strolled.

“Favorite sports team?”

“Bruins.”

Derek made a face. “Rangers, man, c’mon. We live in New York.”

“I grew up in Maine!” he protested, and Derek tipped his head.

“Fair, I guess. I played in college, actually.”

“Really?” Will grinned at him. “Me too.”

“Yeah? That’s—”

Abruptly, Derek cut himself off and tugged Will several steps off the path, ducking under the low-hanging branches of a tree.

“What?” he whispered, but Derek put a finger against his mouth. Will had the urge to kiss it, randomly, but he resisted.

Derek jerked his chin in the direction over Will’s shoulder, and he twisted to see. There were two people, standing right where they’d just been and furiously making out. Based on their outfits, it appeared to be a groomsman and a bridesmaid. The guy’s hand dipped dangerously low, squeezing, and Will turned back.

 _Oh my god_ , he mouthed dramatically, and Derek laughed without making a sound. They were clustered together close, and Will let his free hand slip around Derek’s waist, under the guise of balance. Derek’s hand tightened in Will’s and then had the audacity to lick his lips, Jesus Christ.

But gravel crunched loudly as the couple moved closer, and Derek’s face turned panicked. Will squeezed his hand. _C’mon_ , he mouthed, tilting his head. He led them through a small opening in the bushes, in the opposite direction away from the lovebirds, and they stumbled through onto another path.

Will brushed a couple of stray leaves from Derek’s shoulders, and Derek reached over to pluck one out of his hair. “That was close,” he whispered, and Derek laughed.

“Yeah, they’re probably naked now.”

“I’m glad we escaped. Voyeurism is pretty heavy for a first date.”

“Wow, your first dates are boring.”

Will rolled his eyes and towed him back in the direction of the reception. The dancing had started since they’d been gone, and Derek held his hand tighter when Will tried to head back in the direction of their table. “C’mon, we gotta dance.”

“I really can’t dance.”

“It’s a _slow song_. Everyone can dance to a slow song.”

Will made a face but allowed Derek to drag him toward the dance floor. “You’re gonna take that back in about 30 seconds.”

“I’ll even let you lead, c’mon.”

Will slid one arm around Derek’s waist and took his hand. He wouldn’t call what he was doing _leading_ , exactly, but they were swaying in a borderline-acceptable version of a slow dance.

“You know, that weird mixed expression that couples always have at weddings?” Derek asked. “They’re all _entranced_ by all the love, but they’re also super awkward because everyone’s afraid to actually talk about marriage and commitment, and they’re terrified someone’s gonna bring it up.”

Will buried his laugh into Derek’s shoulder. “Oh, yeah? Which roles are we playing?”

Derek hummed and drew them into a little spin. “You’re the one who’s, like, planning out color schemes and centerpieces. Meanwhile, I’m having an internal crisis about commitment and whether or not I actually want to be with you.”

“Harsh,” Will said admiringly. “By the way, I’m thinking navy blue and…blush? Is blush a color?”

“Yeah,” he said, laughing, “I really think blush would work with your skin tone.” His hand drifted over from Will’s shoulder toward his neck, close enough for his thumb to rub along the edge of Will’s jaw.

Will swallowed. They were standing close, much closer than was required for dancing like this, barely an inch of space between them. He took advantage of the opportunity to shamelessly check out Derek’s eyes, the swirls of various colors of green that were far more fascinating than his own boring brown.

There was a sharp tap on a microphone, the feedback screeching, and Will jerked back, blinking. The music faded out, and Derek dropped his hands. They stepped back awkwardly from each other and watched as Beth and her new husband cut into the cake and fed each other a piece.

Derek booed, very quietly. “Oh, man, that was way too polite. I’m a fan of the cake smashing.”

“That does not surprise me at all.”

Derek bravely headed off to weather the cake line and finally rejoined Will at their table, balancing three plates in his hands.

“Did you leave any cake for the rest of the guests?” Will asked mildly, and Derek rolled his eyes as he dropped down into his seat.

“Three tiers, three flavors. Eat up, lovebug.”

Will scooted his chair closer, until their knees were pressed together. “What are they?”

Derek shrugged. “This one’s good,” he said, pointing, his mouth already full. “Like spice cake.”

“Then don’t hog it,” he said, batting away Derek’s fork with his own.

As soon as Derek turned away, reaching for another piece of cake, Will dipped two fingers into the piece of cake nearest him, lightning fast, and smeared the buttercream on Derek’s cheek.

Derek’s jaw dropped, and Will didn’t even try to hold back his smile. “There you go.” He rubbed it in a little more, fully enjoying the rasp of Derek’s short beard under his fingertips. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on the cake smash.”

“Oh my god, you asshole,” he hissed, but his words were betrayed by his laugh. He brought his napkin up to his face and wiped. “Did I get it?”

“Not in the least.” Will dipped his own napkin in his water glass and scrubbed at Derek’s cheek, until the remnants of cake and frosting were mostly gone. “There you go.”

Derek scooped up a large bite of cake on his fork and waved it in the air. “C’mere, babe,” he said, his voice sickly sweet. “Let me feed you a piece of cake.”

“Oh, fuck no.” Will scooted his chair over, mostly out of arm’s reach. He stayed far away until Derek seemed to give up on his need for revenge, and then they drifted closer together.

“I dare you to go try to catch the bouquet,” Derek said. He was leaning into Will, who had a casual arm thrown over the back of his chair.

“One thousand percent no,” Will said mildly as he picked at the leftover frosting on one of their plates. Derek leaned forward expectantly, his mouth open, so Will scraped up another forkful and fed it to him.

“Dude, you are _no fun_.”

“I am plenty of fun,” he snapped. “But I’m also 6’2” and I was a college athlete. Unfair advantage.”

“Girls are scrappy, man. They’d totally beat you.”

“If you’re trying to goad me into doing it, it’s not gonna work.”

“Shit,” Derek muttered.

After successfully avoiding the bouquet toss, having another drink, and then acquiescing to one more dance, Will saw Derek unsuccessfully try to hide a yawn behind his hand. He stood up and pulled his jacket back on. “You ready?”

“I’m good,” he said, though he yawned again. “We can stay if you want.”

“Nah, let’s go.” Will offered his hand to help him up, and Derek didn’t let go once he was standing. “Why’re you so tired?”

“Got up early. Worked a lot.”

“Are you a workaholic?”

Derek snorted and leaned against his shoulder. “No.”

Will said goodbye to a few people on their way out, and then the music and the chatter slowly faded out as they walked toward the exit of the park. They stopped just outside the main gate, and Derek squeezed his hand.

“My place is only a few blocks this way.” Derek took a couple steps backward, tugging Will with him, and Will smiled.

“I can walk that way.”

They walked most of the way in silence, though Will’s thoughts were whirring loudly in his head. He’d certainly had a good time. And he was _pretty_ sure Derek had a good time, too. Let alone the handful of almost-kisses, they were still holding hands, far beyond the time where they needed to pretend.

Derek stopped in front of a handsome red brownstone. “Hey,” Will said, before the courage could drift away, and Derek made a little questioning noise. He swallowed, quick. “You—would you like to go out with me? For real.”

Derek’s hand tightened in his, and his smile was small and genuine. “Um, _yes_ ,” he said, laughing a little at Will’s audible sigh of relief, “and also I raise you another question.”

“I thought I already asked the big question.”

“You asked _a_ big question, not _the_ big question.”

“So then is this _the_ big question?” Will pretended to look around. “Are you proposing? Are we being filmed?”

Derek snorted and stepped even closer, picking up Will’s other hand. “First of all, please don’t misunderstand my intentions: I wanna date the _shit_ out of you. Like, a lot. Your answer to this does not affect that at all.”

“Wow, now I’m terrified of this question. Good set-up.”

Derek grinned at him. “Would you like to come up, maybe for a drink and/or a movie and/or an orgasm? If not, that’s totally cool.”

Another wave of relief, even stronger than the first. “Yes, please.”

Derek smiled again, yet another different one, this one softer and tinged with pleasure at the edges. “To what?”

“To anything and everything that you’re offering.”

“Whoa, there,” Derek said, his eyes widening in mock surprise even as he walked toward the front steps and dragged Will along with him. “Don’t go making any hasty decisions. You should probably read through the fine print first.”

“Nah. I just like to jump into situations feet-first.”

“Oh, yeah, that really seems like you.”

Derek had to drop one of Will’s hands to unlock the front door, and he led them up the stairs. “You’re, um, you’re not drunk, are you?” Will asked, and Derek turned around just enough to snort at him.

“You were with me all night, you saw that I only had like, three drinks. I’m not a total lightweight.” Will huffed and opened his mouth, but Derek cut him off with a hand on his arm. “But thanks for checking.”

Derek stopped at the landing of the third floor and turned toward the door to the left of the landing, unlocking it and ushering Will in with a hand on his lower back. His apartment was mostly one big room—a kitchen on one side and a wall of windows on the other, with a living area in the middle and a door in the corner that he assumed led to the bedroom. Will knew literally nothing about interior design, but the mix of muted colors and different fabrics looked nice to him.

“I like your place.”

“Thank you.”

Most of one entire wall was built-in bookshelves, stuffed with books in a way that looked haphazard, but as Will stepped closer, he would bet there was a very complicated system. “You weren’t lying about the books.”

“That I wasn’t.” Derek was in the kitchen, jacket off, standing in front of the fridge. “Drink?”

“Um…” Will thought about it as he stripped off his jacket and carefully hung it over the back of one of the bar stools. “Just water would be great, actually. Thanks.”

Derek filled two glasses from the tap, and Will drained most of his, trying to calm his nerves. He didn’t do a very surreptitious job of it, he thought, because Derek smirked and stepped a little closer. He lifted one hand toward him and touched his tie, thumbing down it before his fingers drifted up to the knot and loosened it. “Here.”

“Thanks,” he rasped, making Derek smirk even harder, and reached out to return the favor.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Derek asked, and Will nodded. A movie, he could do a movie.

Derek’s couch was leather and insanely comfortable, and Will might have made a little noise as he sat down.

Derek grinned down at him. “Nice, right?”

“Oh, god.” It was long, too, and Will stretched out all the way to test it. “I’m pretty sure this is comfier than my _bed_.”

He started to sit up, to make room, but Derek held him down with a hand on his chest and climbed over him, fitting his body between Will and the back of the couch. “Can you reach the remote?”

Will fumbled for it on the coffee table and handed it to Derek, who turned on the TV and flipped to HBO, putting on some recent action comedy that Will vaguely recognized. He managed to worm his arm behind Derek’s neck, hooking around his shoulders, and Derek promptly fell asleep with his head on Will’s chest.

After maybe 45 minutes or so, when Will’s own eyes were getting heavy, he shifted just a little. “Hey.” Will slid a hand into Derek’s hair and tugged, gently. “Sleepyhead.”

Derek made a disagreeable noise, and his hand tightened where it was sprawled across Will’s hip. “I wasn’t asleep,” he mumbled.

“Oh, yeah? You were snoring.”

“I snore while I’m awake.” He snuffled a little and scratched his nose on Will’s shirt. “It’s a special talent.”

“Uh-huh. Do you sleep on your couch a lot?”

“Believe it or not, my bed is even more comfortable than this couch.”

Will hesitated. “Is that a line? That feels like a line.”

Derek laughed and lifted his head, bracing one hand on Will’s chest as he levered up to his elbow. He had an imprint of a shirt button high on his cheek, and it was just about the most adorable thing that Will had ever seen.

“It’s not a line, it’s the truth. You wanna test it?”

“Okay, _that’s_ a line.”

“Fair,” Derek admitted, scrambling to his feet with only a minimal amount of fumbling and pulling Will up with him. “Point still stands, though.”

He led him through the door and into the bathroom, which was barely big enough for two people with their breadth. Their shoulders bumped as they stood in front of the sink, and Derek dug out an extra toothbrush, still in its package, from a drawer.

As they brushed, their eyes met in the mirror, and Will let his eyes drift down Derek’s body. Sleepy eyes, messy hair, loosened tie—it painted a painfully domestic picture, and Will didn’t hate it one bit.

“We haven’t even kissed yet,” Derek commented, around his toothbrush, and Will cocked an eyebrow at his reflection.

“Yeah, you should really get on that.”

Derek laughed and then reached out to rub the spots of toothpaste foam from the mirror with the side of his hand.

They spit—which not even Derek could make sexy, it turned out—and Derek washed his face while Will leaned against the wall, waiting. As soon as he finished patting his face dry, Will caught his hand. Derek tried to say something, but Will leaned forward and kissed him instead.

Derek made a surprised noise right into his mouth but quickly caught up and returned the kiss, wonderfully eager as he stepped forward and curved his body into Will’s. The need to breathe finally became too great, and Will pulled back. Derek’s eyes stayed closed for an extra half-second, and he wet his lips as he finally met Will’s gaze.

“We—” Derek had to pause and clear his throat, which pleased Will to no end. “We spent the entire evening at a _wedding_ —one that was hella romantic, by the way—and then you kiss me in my bathroom.”

“Are you complaining?”

In lieu of an answer Derek lunged forward and kissed him again, harder this time, pressing him against the door and bringing his hands up to his face.

The doorknob was digging uncomfortably into his back, but Will could suffer a lot of pain for the pleasure of having Derek pressed up against him. They kissed again and again and again, and somehow it felt like they’d kissed a hundred times already.

“Did I mention,” Will mumbled, against his mouth, “that you look really nice in this suit?”

“Yeah, you did,” Derek breathed. “But you can say it again.”

“You look really nice in this suit,” he pulled back to say, seriously, and Derek laughed. He tugged him close again.

“So do you. What would you do if I said it would look better on my floor?”

“I would laugh at you. But then be secretly, reluctantly charmed.”

His eyes lit up and he opened his mouth, but Will cut him off with his lips again. Derek’s hands were big and steady on Will’s waist as he guided him backward, slowly, out of the bathroom, still kissing. They crossed the threshold into the bedroom, and Derek’s hands slid up to Will’s chest, starting in on his shirt buttons.

Will pulled back with a gasp, his own hands flying up to finally deal with his fucking tie. He fumbled with the knot but finally got it and flung it away, over his shoulder. Derek had finished with Will’s shirt and grinned at him as he palmed down his torso, then around his waist. His hands were warm where they trailed across his skin, and Will kissed him again as Derek pushed the shirt off his shoulders. Will tried to twist out of it, wincing when the shirt got caught on his wrists.

“Ow, fuck,” he muttered into Derek’s mouth. “Cuffs.”

Derek pulled back with a snort. His hand caught Will’s elbow and slid down to his cuff. He undid the buttons slowly, his thumb stroking along the bump of his wrist before repeating the action on the other side. Really, something so simple shouldn’t make Will’s breath catch.

Then the shirt was gone, and Will immediately attacked Derek’s tie, sliding it slowly through his fingers before tugging it all the way off. Derek’s breath was coming fast, his pupils blown wide, and he made a harsh noise, maybe Will’s name, before kissing him again. He made quick work of Derek’s buttons, relishing the hard muscles of his stomach clenching under Will’s hand. Something caught his eye while Derek was squirming out of his shirt, and Will leaned back from the kiss.

“Oh, wow.” Will bent down a little and rubbed his thumb over the splash of black ink on Derek’s side. It was somewhat abstract—stark black lines forming an open book that morphed into roots and a trunk and branches and leaves. “That’s cool.”

“Thanks. Do you have one?”

“Um, no, I am not nearly cool enough to have a tattoo.”

Derek laughed and reeled him back in. The backs of his fingers were feather-light on Will’s skin as he undid his belt, and Will shoved his pants down to the floor before Derek was even done unzipping them. Derek’s pants soon followed, crumpled and forgotten on the rug, and they stumbled over to the bed.

“I never do this,” Will murmured, and Derek laughed.

“I’m not, like, calling you a slut in my head or anything. You don’t have to defend yourself.”

Will snorted and pushed Derek away, just an inch, so he could see his face. This was important. “No, I just…this feels really different. From, uh, from anything else. That’s what I meant.”

Derek’s expression sobered, and his hands came up to frame Will’s face as he kissed him, softer this time. “Yeah, I know. Me too.”

Derek pushed Will down onto the bed and crawled after him. The sheets were rumpled, the bed hastily half-made, and Will fumbled underneath their bodies for the comforter, trying to rearrange it over their legs.

Derek sighed into the kiss, one hand on Will’s face while the other clutched at his thigh, tangling their legs together as they laid on their sides. Derek’s body was big and broad and strong against Will’s own, and his hand explored, drifting over the wings of Derek’s shoulder blades and around his hip and down to his ass.

He was hard, and he could feel Derek was, too, but it wasn’t urgent. He was tired, as was Derek, obviously, and to be honest, Will would be perfectly happy to lie here and kiss Derek for the rest of his life.

Derek pulled away suddenly, turning his face into his own shoulder while he yawned, and Will chuckled. “Thanks for not yawning in my face.”

“Yeah, I’m a real gentleman.”

Derek blinked at him lazily, his gaze soft as he planted a line of soft kisses down Will’s arm. Will slid his fingers into Derek’s hair again, scratching at his scalp, and Derek’s eyes fluttered shut with a truly remarkable moan.

“You should sleep,” he said quietly, and Derek made a petulant noise into Will’s neck. He moved his thigh, nudging against Will’s dick.

“But I wanna do this.”

The words were curled around another yawn, though, and Will laughed. “If you go to sleep now I’ll blow you in the morning,” he said, and Derek smiled, his eyes still closed.

“Deal.” He scooted even closer, and Will rearranged the pillow under their heads.

“How are you at breakfast?” he asked through his own yawn, smearing the words into the skin of Derek’s shoulder.

“I make fuckin’ awesome eggs,” he murmured. “Usually burn the bacon, though. And the toast.”

“M’kay.” Will let his eyes fall shut also and hitched Derek’s leg up higher over his own thigh. “I can do the bacon.”

* * *

A year and a half later, they got married in a small ceremony, officiated by Chris, amid the cherry blossoms at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden.

They wore navy blue suits with blush pink ties.

**Author's Note:**

> My sincere apologies for all the tooth-rotting fluff. ♥
> 
> (I imagine Derek's tattoo to be somewhat like [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/BU7WPfqhh0A/), but smaller and just black.)
> 
> I'm [leslieknopeismyshiningstar](http://leslieknopeismyshiningstar.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr!
> 
> EDITED 10/1 to add: [Go look at this gorgeous piece of fan art that Mara made for this fic!](https://cheskafave.tumblr.com/post/165931914802/some-things-are-meant-to-be) ♥♥♥


End file.
